


Happy To Help

by chooken



Series: Come One, Come All [2]
Category: Westlife
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Booty Calls, Bottoming from the Top, Boys Kissing, Casual Sex, Cock Rings, Come Swallowing, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Gay For You, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Kissing, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Name-Calling, Nipple Play, Snogging, Stress Relief, Threesome - M/M/M, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 04:36:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3433793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark's been having not-so-secret sex with the rest of the band for over a year now, and his schedule suddenly gets unexpectedly crowded.  Not that that's a bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy To Help

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a1_kitkat, my pornographic sounding board.

There was something to be said for being young and stupid, thought Mark. There was a certain blameless joy in not being a grown-up. Of getting roaringly drunk and having someone whose job it was to escort you home. Of having pointless, meaningless sex with someone you'd probably regret when you were old enough to take regret seriously.

But after over a year of pointless, meaningless sex, it was pretty hard to find regret in something so purely, beautifully easy as watching strong hands pulling at handcuffs, the bite of metal into corded wrists. The desperate, broken gasp of someone falling apart in his hands while he stripped back everything they were.

Because Kian needed this.

“Jesus, Mark, I...” Kian thrust up, his cock hard and weeping against his belly. Mark shushed him, dragging his tongue over the bottom of the blindfold and tasting a salty tear on his tongue.

“Be quiet or I'll have to gag you.” He threatened gently, listening to the excited hitch in Kian's breath. “Who's in charge?”

“You... you...” His voice broke off when Mark pinched a nipple hard, then twisted.

“What do you have to do?” Mark purred, leaning down to soothe the injured nipple with a delicate lick. He was only wearing his boxer shorts, had been divested of the rest of his clothes pretty much the moment Kian had stumbled in the door. The handcuffs rattled on the bedposts.

“Nothing.” Kian gasped.

“Why?”

“Because... because... oh fuck!” Kian cried out when Mark bit down, hard enough to hurt, then lapped at it again, watching a hot flush spill down Kian's neck into his chest.

“Why, Kian?”

“Because it's not...” Kian gulped. Mark reached up to pinch the other nipple, nibbling still at the one in his mouth. Kian was too easy, and they'd been doing this long enough to know exactly what worked. “...it's not my responsibility.”

“That's right.” Mark murmured. “Good boy.”

He could feel Kian relaxing already, despite the way his body strained against his bonds. He'd known this was coming all week, had seen the way Kian's hands clenched into fists during the meetings with management, had sensed the electric crackle in the air when Shane had been laughing with Nicky about nothing while Kian had been trying to get them all in gear. Mark had gone along willingly enough, had tried to calm the oncoming storm, but he knew sooner or later it would lead to this. To a broken, angry Kian showing up on his doorstep at two in the morning, unable to sleep and needing to release some frustration. To relinquish control.

And Mark had been only too happy to help.

Which was what he did, apparently. When Shane was feeling helpless and needed to call him names, hold his hair too tight and fuck his mouth, bend him over and fuck him too hard, he was happy to help.

When Nicky was feeling lonely and isolated and needed to snuggle in bed, exchange kisses that might have been loving if their relationship had consisted of anything but friendship. Sweet, gentle, comforting kisses that usually led to something soft and familiar until Nicky could smile and laugh again. Nicky needed that, and he was happy to help.

When he could see his band-mates fraying at the edges from one upset or another, some stress that he could relieve, he was happy to help.

And, well, he was the token gay one. The one who wouldn't question it, wouldn't judge. The other three weren't gay, of course, or at least weren't willing to admit it. He'd had suspicions about all three from time to time but, sexuality aside, he understood. He was the perfect sounding-board, the emotional bank-vault for all their particular inadequacies. He got it.

“Oh...” Kian gasped, biting his lip to muffle the sounds he knew he wasn't supposed to be making. Mark considered chastising him, but the anticipatory wince he could see twisting Kian's blindfolded face was enough. He reached down to adjust the tight black cock-ring instead, smirking at the resulting whimper.

He'd considered not buying it. It felt too much like a gift, too much of an acknowledgement of exactly what it was they did together. Physical proof of Kian's weakness, of his own... whatever. Eagerness to please. Need to please. To make them happy. To hold them all together and fill the cracks he could see appearing.

That was probably pathetic. But if he thought too much about it he knew he'd probably realise something:

None of them ever asked what he needed.

But, you know, he was happy to help.

He slid down the bed and began to nibble at toes that curled and twitched, grabbed an ankle to stop Kian from kicking him in the face. The last thing he needed was a few less teeth.

He glanced up, appreciating the way the root of Kian's cock bulged against the ring. His balls looked full and overstretched, restrained underneath. He hadn't known if Kian would like it, but the first time had been enough of a success to make him pull it out for a second try.

“Mark, please...”

“No.” He knew what Kian was asking, knew he wouldn't be thanked for obliging. “You come when I say you can come.” Kian hissed in a breath, aborting whatever he'd been about to say next.

There was a soft knock at the door. Kian's face turned blindly toward the sound. Mark glanced over, knowing it could only be one of two people at this time of the morning.

Nicky? Maybe. He'd been quiet all day, barely laughing at Shane's gentle ribbing. It usually took more than that, though, and Mark hadn't expected to see him for another two days or so.

Shane, on the other hand, had been showing signs for days. Overcompensating with louder-than-usual laughter and broad, strained smiles that didn't match the endless pacing.

“Mark?”

“Shhhh...” Mark soothed, running a massaging thumb up the soles of Kian's feet. He hadn't been interrupted like this since Nicky had accidentally walked in on he and Shane almost six months ago. Not that that had been a bad thing, even if he'd been walking funny for a few days.

They hadn't mentioned it, not afterwards. Not mentioned the way Nicky had kissed him while Shane fucked him hard and rough, the way Shane had pushed his face into the mattress while Nicky had rocked into him, fingers gentle on his hips.

“Give me a minute.” He told Kian, climbing off the bed and heading for the door. He looked through the peephole, smiling at the agitated brown eyes, messy dark hair. Shane was tapping his foot impatiently, his arms crossed over his chest, clad only in pyjama bottoms and a tight white t-shirt. He looked like a junkie in need of a fix.

Mark cracked open the door, standing in the space to hide the bound, aroused body on the bed behind him.

“Help you?” He asked cheerfully, relishing Shane's pursed lips, narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, um...” Shane crossed his arms tighter over his shirt, scowling. “Can I come in?”

“Really busy right now, Shay.” He replied flippantly. Shane bit his lip, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Mark tried not to laugh.

“What are you busy with at this time of the...” Shane broke off, then tilted his head, trying to see into the room. “Is Nicky here?”

“No.” Mark replied. “Not that it's any of your business.” It was fun, this, pissing Shane off. He liked pissing Shane off, especially when he was in the mood. And he was in the mood now, but he had his hands full. There was conspicuous stillness in the room behind him, as though Kian was trying to somehow camouflage himself. It would have been funny, except Mark was half-hard and was sort of looking forward to jerking off on Kian's chest at some point. Mood-breaking wasn't exactly on the cards.

“But...” Shane was still trying to get past him. Mark side-stepped into his way. He didn't expect Shane to grab his arm and push him aside. He sort of expected the look on his face, though, when he saw Kian on the bed.

“Shane, not the time.”  
  
“Uh... no, I guess not.” Shane's eyes were wide, staring at Kian on the bed. Kian, who was blushing red and trying to curl his legs up for a bit of modesty. If his hands were free, he probably would have covered himself, but he couldn't.

“Jesus, Shane, get out!” He spat.

Mark grabbed Shane's arm, turning him gently back towards the door. Shane's legs stumbled where they were guided, loose with surprise.

“I'll come to your room later.” Mark promised. “I'm in the middle of something.”

“Obviously.” Shane's shocked look was giving way to a smirk. “How long's this been going on, then?”

“Like you can talk.” Mark admonished. Shane didn't seem to want to step out of the room. His feet had planted. Mark pushed him lightly, feeling him rock back a little bit then settle, his hand clamping on to the door-frame while he craned his neck to look at Kian.

“Is he gone?”

“Not yet, no.” Mark glanced back at Kian, who was still blushing. “Sorry, I'm trying to get rid of him.”

“What's your problem, Shane? Like everyone doesn't know you're fucking Mark three times a week.”

“It's not that often.” Mark protested. “Why's everyone ganging up on me?”

“Sorry.” Kian shrugged against his bonds. Before Mark knew it, Shane was pushing past him into the room, striding over to the bed. Kian winced at the roll of the mattress, pulling blindly away from where Shane was sat. “Can you undo me? I think the moment's gone.”

“Is that a cock-ring?” Shane demanded. “Why does he get toys? You never said I could have toys.”

“It didn't come up.” Mark sighed, heading over to the dresser to grab the handcuff keys. “Do you want toys?”

“I don't know. I didn't know other people were getting them.”

“So you only want them because other people are getting them?” Mark rolled his eyes. He headed over and clicked the left handcuff free, then headed round the bed to release the other one. Kian rubbed his wrists, shaking the for a moment to get the blood flowing, then reached up to pull off his blindfold. His eyes were already narrowed under a glare.

“Do I interrupt you, Shane?”

“What's it like?”

“What?”

“That.” Shane gestured at Kian's groin. Kian curled up his knees, settling against the end of the bed and pulling a pillow into his lap to cover himself. Which was fine, but it left his gorgeous, round arse exposed. Mark hadn't had the pleasure. He hadn't had the pleasure of any of them, not when they were purportedly straight. Shane would happily suck him occasionally, and Nicky had gone so far as to let Mark finger him once or twice.

Kian was still a closed shop, though. He would let Mark do things to him when he was blindfolded, as though he could somehow pretend that the mouth around his dick belonged to someone with tits, that the arse spreading around him was that of a particularly adventurous girl he'd picked up somewhere. Of course, that was hard to believe when Kian was moaning his name and thrusting up into his mouth. But Mark figured, hell, whatever got him through. He did like it when Kian fucked him, so it worked for both of them.

“It's fine.” Kian growled. “It was fucking great until about two minutes ago. What do you want?”

“Dunno. Bit horny.” Shane shrugged. Mark felt exhausted all of a sudden, which was fair because it was past two in the morning, and he was trying to juggle two apparently straight booty calls that were now bickering bitterly on his bed. He kind of wanted to go to sleep. “You like being tied down?”

“Sometimes. Why?”  
  
“Mark won't let me tie him down.” Shane shrugged.

“I didn't say that.” Mark argued. “I said I didn't trust you to tie me down.”

“I'm trustworthy.”

Mark rolled his eyes. They'd had this discussion. It wasn't that he didn't trust Shane in general. Shane was one of his best friends, had been for long years, was one of the first people he'd told about his sexuality. Shane was a confidant. But, in the moment, Shane was erratic. Had a tendency to lose himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust Shane, it was that he didn't trust the way Shane was when he lost control. When he got a certain way, Mark didn't know who he was. And he didn't trust it.

Like now, with Shane leaning in, giving Kian a lecherous leer. This wasn't the Shane he knew. This was the Shane that Shane was trying to be, needing something that swamped his normally measured personality. And usually he loved it. Loved being held down, being fucked hard, being called a whore and a slut and whatever cliché Shane was feeling at the time.

It didn't mean he trusted Shane to tie him down.

“Still hard?”

“Sort of can't stop, can I?” Kian sighed, reaching down to adjust himself. Mark reached over to put a comforting hand on Kian's knee.

“You okay?”

“I'm okay.” Kian winced, adjusting again. “Might finish this off in the bathroom.”

“You want a hand?”

“It's fine.” Kian shook his head, glancing down into his lap. Mark didn't miss the fact that Shane's gaze followed Kian's, dropping onto a hard, throbbing erection that beat against the leather band. Before he knew it, Shane's hand was moving. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't surprised. Shane was usually not the initiater, not past walking in and demanding Mark drop to his knees. It didn't change the fact that Kian was straight, and Shane was straight, and here was Mark, staring in surprise while Shane wrapped a hand around Kian's shaft and Kian...

...let him.

“Oh.” Kian mumbled, his head going back against the head of the bed. His teeth dug into his lower lip while he hissed in a breath. “Oh shit.”

“That's it...” Shane glanced up at Kian's face, then down again. Mark couldn't stop watching. He knew he should probably stepping in, defending Kian's honour, but Kian really didn't look like he was complaining. “God, you're hard...”

“Shay...” Kian's eyes were closed, his head thunking back against the wooden bed-head again. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Not sure.” Shane admitted. Mark watched his tongue sweep over his bottom lip. This was the Shane he knew, the desperately sexy, slightly naïve, overwhelmingly enthusiastic boy that was maybe not as secure with himself as he liked to think he was. Still, it was understandable. Kian and Shane had been friends longer than Mark had known either of them. It struck him, suddenly, that it was the original three again. The three Sligo boys, bound together by friendship and a tenacious need for... well, they'd never quite expected what they'd ended up with, but... something. To sing, to do what they loved doing when it was just the three of them and Kian's guitar, sitting on Shane's bedroom floor.

Not that they'd ever done this, then.

“Do you...” Shane bit his lip, looking nervous. “Still got the handcuffs?”

“You wanna cuff me?” Kian panted. Shane's strokes were getting faster, probably more distracting. Kian certainly looked distracted.

“Want me to?”

Kian paused, eyebrows knitting while his hand dropped to Shane's, helping him set a rhythm. Mark watched, not sure if he felt left out, or seriously turned on. It probably should have occurred to him before this. Shane and Kian were two sides of the same coin. One rough, one pliant. One taking, one giving. Though he supposed they never would have figured that out, not left to their own devices. He really wasn't sure if he was jealous or not. They used him. That's what they did. But still...

“Maybe.” Kian replied tentatively. Mark put a hand on his knee, trying to comfort him. Kian glanced at him, clear blue eyes meeting Mark's. “Should I?”

“I'm not...” Mark was about to say 'I'm not in charge of you', but that wasn't technically true, not with the game they'd been playing not ten minutes before. He wasn't cuffed any more. Kian was his own person, could walk out the door if he wanted, but Mark realised their relationship went deeper than that. That Kian was looking for an excuse. That maybe he wanted this, and wanted Mark to make it okay. And fuck... who the hell was Mark to stop him? He met Kian's eyes. Saw the shuddering want when Shane squeezed, pulling firmly in short, upward strokes.

“I can...” Shane was glancing at Mark too. For someone who was always in charge, Mark could see the question in deep brown eyes. The need for some sort of permission. All of a sudden, Mark realised he was the most qualified person to make this decision. He'd been used, been torn between three people, emotionally and physically, and all of a sudden they were looking to him for answers. “Do you mind?”

“I don't mind.” Mark said finally, glancing between the two boys. Watched Kian's knees sink slightly, then his thighs flop out in invitation. Shane's hand was moving faster, Kian's cock throbbing in his hand, still restrained by the ring. He snagged one pair of cuffs off the bed and handed them to Shane, watched him snap one end around Kian's wrist, then hook it onto the bedpost. Kian yanked against it, writhing under the hand in his lap, his free hand going over his eyes.

“Slower.” Mark urged, knowing how Kian liked it. Shane nodded and obeyed, Kian's hips bucking up harder when he slowed his stroke, squeezing hard and precise. “That's it. He likes that. Don't you, Ki?”

“Yeah...” Kian mumbled, thrusting into Shane's hand. “S'good.”

“You gonna come?” Mark murmured, bending over to lap at strong, muscular thighs, dragging his tongue up to a dark blonde thatch of hair, nipping at tight, full balls that swelled from the confining ring. “Didn't say you could.” Kian groaned, pushing into Mark's mouth, Shane's hand. “Shay's in charge. He says when you come.”

“Not yet.” Shane continued. “Not until I have.”

Kian moaned under his breath, his free hand tangling in Mark's hair, pushing him down.

“Gonna come, Shay?” Mark urged. He didn't know what it was he was doing. Usually he was the one being used, the one being told what to do, but all of a sudden it felt like he was guiding them through this... thing. This strange, complicated mess of emotions and sex.

“Not yet.” Shane shook his head, climbing over to straddle Kian's waist. Kian looked up, his eyes unsure, his hand pulling against the cuff. Not trying to escape, just testing. “Gonna suck me?”

“I don't...” Kian bit his lip, looking down at Shane's erection, pushing against his pyjama bottoms. “I don't do that.”

“Didn't say you had a choice.” Shane replied. Mark was about to step in, but then he saw Kian's eyes. Saw the barely-hidden want. The need to be owned, to be forced. Mark hadn't been able to do it to him, but Shane didn't seem to have the same problem, was unbuttoning his pyjamas and pulling his cock out through the gap. “You gonna suck me?”

“You gonna make me?” Kian's voice may have been tentative, but it was challenging. Shane grinned, his fingers curling around Kian's nape. He could have been stopped, Kian still had a hand free after all, but then he was forcing between full, wet lips, Kian's eyes dropping closed as if trying to hide from himself what he was doing. Mark saw his throat jerk for a second, the gag, and then Shane was pulling back a little bit, giving the blonde room to breathe.

“That's it.” Shane murmured, caressing a square jaw, brushing through thick hair. “You want it?”

Kian didn't reply, didn't nod, just opened his mouth a little wider in invitation. Shane pushed forward again, going deeper, until Kian gagged again.

“Here.” Mark knelt up behind Shane, spooning to his back. He reached around, wrapping his fist around Shane's cock, feeling the familiar hardness, the slight give in delicate skin as he adjusted his grip. Slowly he guided Shane's cock into Kian's mouth, rubbing it gently over a yielding pink tongue, feeling Shane shudder, then try to push forward. “Not yet.” He murmured, pulling back a little, then forward to trail over parted lips, making sure Shane's slit gently brushed white, gaping teeth. Then in, just the head, watching soft lips close around it. “Feels good?”

“Yes...” Shane breathed, trying to push in again. Mark held him, guiding him in slowly, watching Kian's face as he took it in. The way eyes flickered shut, then opened again, glancing at the two boys above him. He was taken a little deeper, Mark guiding Shane's movements to make sure it wasn't too much too soon. “Ah...” Shane gasped, hands coming up behind him to grip Mark's nape, tug painfully at short hair.

“Ehm...” Mark looked around at the soft, unexpected voice behind him. Nicky. He was standing in the doorway, looking sleepy and confused. His hair was all messy, his cheeks filled with a lazy flush. “What's going on?”

“Nothing, just...” Mark glanced down, realising that 'nothing' was the last thing this was. Kian's mouth was open wider, Shane's cock deeper in his mouth and building a slow, shallow rhythm. Kian wasn't choking any more, was taking the more reserved thrusts quite comfortably. Mark let go, leaving them to their own devices while he crossed the room to stand in front of Nicky, who was staring, his eyes wide despite his sleepy face.

“The... erm...” Nicky craned his neck around. “This happen often?”  
  
“We haven't been leaving you out.” Mark managed to stifle a laugh at the suddenly jealous look on Nicky's face. “It just sort of happened.”

“Oh.” Nicky pursed his lips. “What'd I miss?”

“Not much.” Mark admitted. “Did you come for...?” He gestured vaguely at the two on the bed. Shane's hand was wrapped in Kian's hair, the blonde's blue eyes closed against the slow, shallow thrusts. Kian was still hard, which probably said something about how much he was enjoying what Shane was doing, but could just as easily be a result of the leather band still wrapped around his cock.

“Just... couldn't sleep.” Nicky kept trying to talk, but his eyes kept sliding away. Mark put his hand on the older boy's shoulder, meeting the shaky gaze that drifted back to him. “Thought I'd see if you minded...” He glanced over Mark's shoulder again. “A bit of that, I guess.”

Mark sighed, stepping aside to let Nicky into the room. He was still half hard, had just realised that he was still standing in his boxers. Not that it mattered – Nicky had seen a lot more.

“Well, I doubt I'm getting anything out of either of them tonight.” Mark nodded ruefully. Shane was pulling out, the head of his cock popping from soft, pink lips that were slicked with spit and pre-cum. “You want to go back to your room?”

“Quite like to stay here.” Nicky admitted, stepping around Mark. Mark closed the door and pressed to a slim, pale back, stroking his hands down a smooth, slightly hairy chest, down a tight stomach that fluttered under his touch. He knew Nicky loved it, knew he loved gentle touches and to be just... caressed. Nicky didn't disappoint, pushing back into the touches with a delicious purr. Mark pushed a hand down, delving past an elastic waist into tight black boxer briefs, feeling the interest there. Nicky moaned, undulating slowly under Mark's hand.

Shane was pushing back in. Kian's free hand was coming up now to grip Shane's thigh where it was braced beside his chest, more encouraging than Mark had expected. It was odd, having all four of them in one room together, knowing the last time they'd done this was that afternoon, sitting quietly and comfortably around an early dinner in the hotel restaurant, talking about nothing.

And then Mark had come upstairs for a shower, had watched some TV, had gone to bed. And somehow they'd ended up here.

“What do you need?” Mark murmured, nipping at Nicky's ear. Nicky shivered.

“Can I...” Nicky swallowed, pressing into Mark's embrace. “Would you mind if...”

“You want to go join in?” Mark suggested. Nicky paused for a moment, then nodded. “Which one do you want?”

“Both. You.” Nicky shook his head. “All of you. I want...” He gasped as Mark's hand tightened around him, blonde head lolling back on his shoulder. “Would they mind?”

Mark looked over. Both the boys on the bed looked lost in each other. He suspected they'd forgotten there was anyone else in the room. They'd barely acknowledged that Nicky was even in the room, though Mark had seen Kian's eyes flick over, mildly interested, before rolling back at the sheer joy of having Shane's cock in his mouth. Mark understood. As far as dick went, Shane's was not at all subpar.

“Not sure.” Mark admitted. Shane was getting closer to the edge, he could tell, but Kian looked to be falling apart a little bit. It was a delicate line, with Kian. Too little and it didn't help, didn't release the self-conscious, overworked tension Kian constantly berated himself into wearing. Too much, though, and he couldn't handle it, the loss of control too overwhelming. He'd had to safeword a few times since they'd started this, and Mark was getting better at spotting the signs.

“You like that, you fucking whore?” Shane growled. Nicky giggled, shaking against Mark's front. Mark let go of him, moving over to the bed.

“Shane, stop.” Mark put a hand on Shane's shoulder, felt him tense for a moment, then obey, shuddering to a halt. Kian looked up, gratitude in his eyes. He had a hand free, so probably could have pushed Shane away himself. But Mark was still in charge, apparently.

“You okay?” Nicky was beside him, looking down at the bound figure on the bed. Kian was shaking a little bit, but he nodded, muddled eyes fixed warily on Shane. The brunette was stroking himself slowly, his cock slipping through his fist in a way that was admittedly really hot.

There was movement beside him, and when he looked back down, Nicky was laying down to kiss Kian.

It was a good kiss, one of those long, slow, sucking kisses that Mark had shared with Nicky on more than one occasion. Kian seemed to be enjoying it too, was closing his eyes and making soft, humming moans against the gentle embrace of Nicky's mouth. Mark saw their tongues touch for a moment, tentative, and then more sure, and felt himself start to harden again after the distractions of the last few minutes. Nicky's hand came up to caress Kian's cheek, guiding the kiss.

“Shit that's hot.” He heard Shane murmur. Mark looked at him, laughing at the want he could see radiating from the boy knelt on the bed. He was still stroking himself, watching the two blondes deepen the kiss, Kian's free hand tangling in the older boy's hair when Nicky slid a hand between them.

“Fuck.” Kian whispered, pulling away from the kiss on a shuddering gasp. “Nix.” He glanced at Mark, eyes bright with desperation. “I need to come. Please. It... I... it hurts... I can't...” Nicky's mouth was against his throat, hand stroking his cock, pushing him towards a release he couldn't find. Mark bent down, unfastening the ring and gently removing it, batting Nicky's hand out of the way to run his tongue over the red marks the leather strip had left, before taking the head in his mouth.

He glanced up. Nicky was capturing Kian's mouth again, a soft, calming kiss. Shane was still stroking himself, his eyes darting between the two blondes and Mark, who was taking Kian deeper now, the taste changing on the back of his tongue. Nicky was swallowing pained, whimpering cries, his eyes open and looking at Shane over Kian's shoulder.

“Suck him.” Shane urged. “Fuck, yeah.”

Mark smirked around his mouthful. Shane could be really ridiculous when he got going, spouting what sounded like cliches from b-grade porn videos. There was something fake about it, a desperate bravado that Mark sort of loved. It was like Shane was amping him himself up to do something filthy, trying to slip into a role.

“Close.” Kian whimpered, yanking harder against the cuff, his free hand grabbing onto Mark's hair and pushing down, fingers like claws. Mark's mouth was flooded with thick, salty fluid, so much of it after the pressure Kian had been under. He took the first few spurts and then had to let go, swallowing a bulging mouthful while the rest coated Kian's stomach. Kian was breathing hard, shaking while Nicky stroked him down with a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Okay?” Nicky murmured, letting the younger boy nuzzle into the crook of his neck, clear blue eyes squeezed shut against his skin while Kian trembled, his temples dripping sweat. “So good.” He breathed. His hand was starting to move, and when Mark glanced at its destination he realised how hard Nicky was, that his erection was pushed rigidly against Kian's side through his boxer shorts. Mark reached up, rubbing his thumb down the obvious bulge, feeling Nicky stiffen under his hand. He wiped his mouth with the other hand, feeling a jolt of arousal hit him when Nicky moaned and arched up, his hands tightening in Kian's hair.

“Jesus.” Shane gulped. He was still stroking himself, going slower than usual. Trying to make it last, probably. Mark snorted a laugh, reaching up to pull Nicky's underwear down, shuffling up to kneel over the older boy's knees, tugging until Nicky's cock popped free of the elastic.

If Mark had to pick, he'd say he liked Nicky's cock the best. It wasn't anything personal. It was like trying to choose between three flavours of ice-cream. They might all be delicious, but you generally had a favourite, and this was his. There was something about the shape of it, the slight upward curve, the fact that it was just a little too big to be comfortable, that did it for him so badly. Kian was nice, thick and satisfying, and Shane had a smooth power that was fantastic in the right mood, but Nicky was all stretch. He liked being fucked by Nicky the best.

And, anyway, his jaw was sore from Kian's blowjob, so it was nice to mix it up a bit.

“Want to fuck me?” He asked quietly, glancing up at Nicky. Shane groaned softly. Nicky smirked, letting go of Kian's hair. He looked down, his eyes all laughter when they caught Mark's.

“Yeah, alright.” He teased. Mark grinned, yanking Nicky's boxers off and throwing them off the side of the bed, his own following soon after. He realised, suddenly, that Shane was the only one still dressed, in a white t-shirt with his cock jutting out through his pyjama bottoms. He straddled Nicky, glancing over at Shane.

“Shane needs a hand.” He said quietly to Kian, who was gazing up at him, his features foggy with orgasm. The blonde swallowed, his eyes unsure for a moment before he sat up, nodding, grabbing the key off the bed and unlocking the cuff. Mark nudged him lightly on his way, smiled when Kian fell against Shane, kissing him at first tentatively, then harder, his hand dropping to brush over the length Shane was pumping, taking over the grip a second later. Shane's hand dropped to his side while he gave himself over, his mouth claiming Kian's.

He looked back at Nicky, laughing when the older boy thrust up against him, his cock brushing Mark's arse.

“Help you?”

“I'll just lay here, shall I?” Nicky challenged, thrusting up again. “You just gonna sit there and watch them?”

“You're not gonna watch?” Mark asked. “Because that's pretty hot.”

“Might be.” Nicky conceded. “Might be better if I was in you.”

“Might it?”

“Maybe.” Nicky nodded, hissing when Mark reached back to spread himself, knowing Nicky wasn't going to do it for him. Heavy blue eyes fixed on him, peering between his legs while Mark pushed a finger inside himself, closing his eyes at the sudden stretch. Nicky reached down to grab his arse, pulling the cheeks open while Mark fingered himself, shoving deep.

He prepared himself quickly, glad he had the time for once. He didn't think any of them quite got it, or maybe they were always too single-minded to care that you couldn't just go shoving in whenever you felt like it. Maybe he'd sort of encouraged it – or at least not discouraged it sufficiently – been too accommodating in the past. It wasn't that he was a pushover. He was hardly as meek and nervous as people seemed to think he was, but still he didn't think they much cared. Nicky, maybe, as he'd had a finger or two up there in the past, but the other two just seemed to take it as some sort of accepted biological inclination to taking things up the arse. Because, you know, he was gay and that.

“You ready?”

Not that Nicky wasn't impatient. But he was impatient about everything, so Mark didn't take it personally.

He nodded, rolling on one of the condoms he'd kept handy for Kian's visit. He reached down to line Nicky up, sucking in a breath around the sudden electric stretch.

Shit, that was good.

“Jesus.” Nicky choked out, his eyelashes fluttering while he watched himself become enveloped in a passage that felt too tight all of a sudden. Not that Mark was complaining. Not when he was biting his lip, his skin breaking out in confused goosebumps while he shifted, adjusting around the intrusion.

He heard Shane swear, turned to look. They were laid on the bed next to he and Nicky, Shane on top, Kian's hand jerking him hard and fast. They were both watching, watching Nicky thrust up, Mark make an embarrassingly desperate whine. He'd been stuck between half-hard and erect through this whole mad exercise, for what felt like hours, and was glad he was finally getting some proper attention.

“Fuck him.” Shane urged, then gasped, his head dropping when Kian hit the right spot. “Fuck, Ki.” He mumbled, his attention diverted while Mark began to ride Nicky slowly.

“So good.” He managed, rocking a little bit to loosen things up. “Fuck me.”

Nicky made a sound of agreement, eyes locking onto the spot where they joined. Nicky liked this, liked watching himself fuck Mark. Just one of the many particular kinks he'd amassed knowledge about over the last year or so. If he'd been so inclined, he could have written a pretty specific tell-all, but that might mean this had to stop, and he really didn't want that. Emotional complications aside, the three of them managed to be one fairly excellent shag, and the variety wasn't something to complain about.

“Harder.” Shane groaned, though which one of them he was talking to wasn't clear. Kian was grinding against him, fingers tightening. They were kissing, hard kisses that Mark hadn't expected them to exchange, not considering their own individual hangups, but it looked so awkwardly natural. Shane was clutching at his shoulders, panting brokenly. “Gonna come.” He whispered suddenly, his voice a far cry from the usual dominance. He sounded lost. Mark smirked, then jolted when he felt Nicky nudge his prostate, the sensation overwhelming. He cried out, a hoarse, embarrassing sound that Nicky echoed, his hands grabbing at Mark's hips. He was closer to the edge than he'd expected, the last hour's torture catching up on him.

“Oh shit, Nicky...” He managed, bringing his hand down to grasp himself in short, unforgiving strokes that only made the sensation of Nicky fucking him more delicious.

“Good?”

“Nix...” He groaned in reply, twisting his hips, wanting that feeling again. Getting it, when Nicky jerked his hips up. “Right there. Shit. Right there.”

“Gonna come?”

“Yes. God...” He bit his lip, closing his eyes against the onslaught of pleasure. Heard Shane come somewhere beside him, the loud, agitated cries lost in the blood rushing in his ears. “Nicky, you don't...” 'Don't know', he was about to say. But apparently Nicky did, because he was rolling them over. Mark's shoulders hit the mattress, forcing his breath out while Nicky yanked his leg over one strong, slim shoulder, opening him even wider, eyes glued to his own cock while it hammered in and out. Harder. Harder again. Hurting wonderfully.

“So tight.” Nicky breathed. Mark was still stroking himself, not knowing what else to do. “Come for me.”

“Nicky. Fuck.” His voice sounded tiny. Shane was panting beside him. Kian's face blocked his vision for a second, lips claiming his, anchoring him while he let go.

“Fuck me, that's it.” He heard Nicky mutter above the roar of his own orgasm, then felt the tense, the cry when Nicky stumbled over as well, flooding the condom with heat while Mark lost himself in Kian's mouth, his hand wet. Too much. Too many tiny, insignificant sensations at once. Nicky's breath on his throat, Kian's teeth on his lip.

Shane's hand suddenly on his cock, stroking him through it.

He collapsed bonelessly into the bed, not caring that he had three sets of hands on him. Just lost in the sound of all four of them panting, satisfied moans intermingling while he floated down from his climax, feeling utterly loose. Nicky pulled out, evidenced by the sudden emptiness and a hoarse gasp. Crooked teeth dragged over his chest, teasing and sated.

“Fuck.” He didn't know who said it, was just sure it wasn't him. Someone giggled. Someone else ran a hand through the cum pooling on his belly. Kian's mouth was still on him, scraping down over his chin. Hands ran soothingly up his thighs, probably Nicky.

He kicked them out once he'd recovered. Shane and Kian were laughing, their arms around each other in something that could probably be misconstrued as friendliness. Nicky followed, slouching from the room like he'd forgotten how his muscles worked.

Mark sat out on the balcony for a pre-bedtime cigarette, suddenly desperate for one. The stars looked back at him, the early-morning air cold against his skin.

Then he went to bed.

It was almost a week later that he was lain on his bed, flicking through television channels with a kind of detached purpose, as though something might be different on the next cycle through. It wasn't. There were sudden footsteps in the hall outside, coming towards him from Shane's room. He wasn't surprised. Shane had been antsy for the last day or so.

They hadn't mentioned any of it, not afterwards. Not that he was shocked. They'd never mentioned it when it was just one-on-one, and there was no reason to bring it up now. Why shine a spotlight on something that worked? To expose the flaws he was sure were there? It seemed a waste of time. This would work or it wouldn't, and so far it did.

He got up, heading over to the door. The footsteps reached his door.

...then passed it.

He was standing close enough to his door to hear the soft rap on the door to the other side of his. It clicked open.

“Hey, Shane.” He heard Kian say. There was a short silence.

“Hey, Ki... erm...” Shane paused. “Erm... can I come in? I... need a favour?”

Silence settled again. Mark pressed his ear to the door, not bothering to feel guilty for listening in.

“Yeah.” Kian said finally. “Yeah, come in.”

The door clicked closed again.

Mark stood in surprise for a second, then found himself laughing, covering his mouth in case they could hear him. He should have probably felt jealous, but there wasn't much point. It wasn't what he did.

He was just happy to help.


End file.
